Started by Bach, May 14, 2023, 07:13:20 PM

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So this morning I was thinking about the fact that because my mother and I have been communicating (if you can call it that) somewhat regularly again, I'm pretty sure I'm supposed to wish her Happy Mother's Day, and I'm just not willing to do that. Mother's Day.  I came here for something, not sure what, maybe thinking I'd write something, but not sure what. I looked in the Resources For Mothers And Fathers Day thread here, and thought "Oh, five ways to be peaceful on Mother's Day, cool, I'll read that!" ( But I got to Item #2:

Quote2. List the positive things learned from the abusive parent. My mother always read me the book, "The Little Engine That Could." The themes in that book helped me overcome my past and provided me with the tenacity to be successful at most things I have attempted.

I realised that I cannot think of one single thing my mother taught me that was good or useful.  Even inadvertently.  There isn't even a useful habit she had that I picked up on.  I could say that I learned a few things about who I didn't want to be by watching her, but that's not really the same thing, at least not in terms of comforting thoughts for the day when from all sides I'm getting bombarded with images and flowery idealistic words about the sacredness of motherhood.  I read the rest of the article, but it didn't really resonate with me.  So I decided to look at another article.  "It's Mother's Day And All I Want To Do Is Grieve".  That sounded perfect!  I read the first two paragraphs:

QuoteI dread Mothers Day, and the weeks leading up to it. Around the first of May, it begins. That uncomfortable feeling that swells up in me whenever I see some flowery advertisement featuring happily bonded mothers and daughters posed in their soft-focus, perfectly lit scenes of domestic life. But it's so much more than the advertisements. The cultural expectation is heavy, that we're all supposed to have mothers who love us.

The grief I feel around Mothers Day revolves around the basic fact that I don't know and will never know what it's like to be loved by my mother. I don't know and will never know what it's like to feel safe. I don't know what it's like to have a mother to confide in, or trust. I don't know and will never know what it's like to be nurtured, or counseled, or guided. For me, Mothers Day is a reminder that I grew up without those things, I transitioned into adulthood without those things, and I will go through the rest of my life without those things.

WOW!  Spot on!  So spot on, in fact, that I considered posting the link on my Facebook.  My mother reads my Facebook.  But I don't like that kind of passive-aggressive stuff, and besides, I needed to see what the rest of the article said.  Which was where I got hit with the "I was abused by my mother I've broken the cycle through being a loving mother to my own children" perspective.  Hey, that's a fine perspective, and I'm happy for all those of you who have been able to do that, but still no help for the Klingon.



Bach. I know how hard it is to not see your experience reflected, every place you turn it's just not quite what you need. In part of the world it is no longer today - it is now tomorrow. So, I say - the day is over. You survived.

Your experience is valid just as you have and are experiencing it. 


I am here with you feeling this day too.  I just watched a movie that landed so heavy and hard in ways I wasn't expecting.  It feels like the theme of the movie was "family is best" even though most of the characters had a found family.  Days like today make me feel like I am wrong and live wrong.  I am here with you feeling this day too.



Bach, may I lend you a saying of mine for the day? 'Should is never good'. Use or discard as feels right to you.  :hug: :bighug:


Big group hug Bach  :grouphug:   We don't have to feel positive about our M's, often as you say there isn't anything to feel positive about.  If nothing else here we can admit that and not feel like we are terrible people. MOreover, as you wrote about we can grieve openly and the community gets it completely.  It was a huge loss to have a M but not have our M's love or care or support or protection.  It is worthy of a good cry frankly.  We are trauma orphans and that is sad and hard.

I will say that I realized yesterday and today one of the positive things about M's Day for me was that it made me realize there are so many of us breaking the cycle of abuse/neglect now. Even if we don't have children ourselves, we are conscious of treating any children in our orbit with care and that's a awesome shift from the past.   


I'm glad you were able to give yourself permission to grieve, Bach, and that the second article your read connected with your experience. I feel like that kind of mirroring/ validation can be really important, especially since there's little space for this kind of response in society.